a miserable day in nyc

I guess Tammy's finally here. It’s raining buckets. Umbrellas are little defense.
All day I expect to be introduced to a man named Noah.

This morning I’m walking up the steps to the subway, listening to Randy Newman’s “I’m Dead (But I Don’t Know It)” from his Bad Love album. The entrance to the southwest corner is taped off. Upstairs it’s taped off in the other direction, effectively forming a cordon around a portion of the platform. A policeman is standing next to the upstairs tape and a homeless person is asleep in the blocked off area, except they’re probably not asleep, you know?

Last week my preview of Fall rock lit ran in Philadelphia Weekly, and Cleveland Scene was kind enough to reprint the Weezer piece.
And just out in New Times Broward-Palm Beach is a short feature on Fall Out Boy.

This week also marks the release of Daddy's Live at the Women's Club. The band is fronted by former bis-quits buddies Will Kimbrough and Tommy Womack. And I was fortunate enough to be in Frankfort, KY back in February when the album was recorded.

When I haven't been asleep, working the day job, writing, transcribing (right now an interview with Death Cab for Cutie frontman Ben Gibbard) or interviewing (most recently System of a Down drummer John Dolmayan), I've been scouring the Internet for photography (photo auctions are in progress at most of the New York houses) and just general info.
For instance, I can't wait to turn in the Shortstop book (boy, it's really weird to see your book listed on Amazon before you've finished writing it) so I can have the time to read Joan Didion's The Year of Magical Thinking. So I was looking to see if she had any book signings in the area and I came across an announcement that Spalding Gray would be reading from his new work, Life Interrupted: The Unfinished Monologue, but unfortunately I don't think there's much chance of that happening.